


Base Instincts

by Chthonic (Tchaik4)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Porn, Power Play, Shower Sex, Slut Shaming, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:24:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6039889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tchaik4/pseuds/Chthonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn very quickly catches on to Poe's power over the Alliance base on D'Qar - nobody could resist the star pilot's animal charisma. But if Dameron uses sex to get what he want, why does he never use Finn?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mechanic’s Dinner – Well This Was Fun – 74

Finn had been on D’Qar for just a few days, and he had already sussed Poe out. Poe was the best, Poe was cool, Poe knew he was the best and knew damn well he was cool. All of this Finn could have guessed from the few chance encounters he’d already had with the ace star pilot. What he knew now that he didn’t before was that Poe was good – _excellent_ – at using his popularity to get what he wanted. And what was it he wanted? Sex, and lots of it.

                Finn, of course, had no experience himself. Life in the Order was tightly regulated, with all energies focused tightly onto physical exercise and daily duties. The smallest glimpse across the shower room could be caught on camera, causing a trooper to be reprimanded and joshed mercilessly afterwards by his colleagues. So, Finn was not an entirely objective observer as he began to keep notes on Poe’s adventures – adventures which do not require one to leave the base.

~

It had started in the mess hall. Finn had plonked his tray down on a free table by the window, hoping to be left with his thoughts. He spotted Poe across the room near the dinner queue, sharing laddy banter with a group of mechanics Finn had never met. They were far and away the loudest group in the hall, and were drawing disapproving looks from the quieter diners. Poe was standing while the mechanics sat – a classic power-play for Poe, as Finn would later learn – and there was much back-slapping and teeth-baring laughter. Finn tried desperately to find his own meal interesting, but his eyes were always drawn back to the spectacle of charisma at the other table. Sometimes after backs were slapped a hand would linger for just a few seconds, then a few seconds longer. Poe’s fingers squeezed the shoulder of some gear-head with shaved hair and prickly stubble. This mechanic – Finn decided to find out his name, because he already hated him – was allowing his palm to fall lower down Poe’s back. Lower and lower until…

                Finn’s teeth clenched and ground a little. When he looked back over, Poe was saying his goodbyes to the group. He lifted the nearest tray, whistled to BB-8 and set off swaggering. The shaven mechanic was left blinking at his empty table – Poe had taken his dinner. His buddies were all nattering away, and he was left smiling but nursing his hard-on and his hunger.

                Finn jumped and hit the table a little too hard when Poe came and sat opposite him. The pilot straddled his bench and faced into the room, only occasionally turning to look at Finn directly or to pick at the mechanic’s dinner. BB-8 hit against the table leg a few times before rolling round in a circle and powering down with a whirr.

                “Good to see you outta your room,” Poe quipped, “can’t imagine what you’ve been doing in there. Well, I guess we can both imagine, eh?” Finn blushed as Poe hit him – in a joshing way – and he couldn’t help but look at his knees, wide-eyed.

                “No, sir. Got none of that going on, none at all!”

                “Sure, sure.” Poe brought the conversation down to an intense whisper, forcing both of them to lean in. He picked up a bread roll and toyed with it between his fingers. “But haven’t you ever thought about… you know… touching it?”

                Finn had no idea how to react to this situation, so he just let his body do what it wanted – which in this case was to seize up completely with neck retracted and face screwed up. Poe waited a little, just to turn the screw, and then broke the intimacy with bravado.

                “Well, this was fun,” he declared, giving BB-8 a quick kick, “we should eat together more often.” The robot shrieked and roved wildly about as Poe took the mechanic’s dinner over to a table full of liberated Twi’lek girls. In the extended period of shoulder tension which followed for Finn, he decided to document the star pilot’s behaviour. When most of the mess hall had cleared and he had regained control of his limbs, Finn grabbed pencil from his satchel and scrawled his first diary entry on a napkin.

                MECHANIC’S DINNER.

                WELL THIS WAS FUN.

~

The sun was setting as Finn trudged back to his dorm room. His fists were clenched as he dragged his satchel, but he couldn’t deny the burning inside him wasn’t just frustration. Thinking of his Order training, he veered off-route to the gym, hoping to vent some of his energies into reps.

                The Resistance base on D’Qar had a pretty Spartan gym, consisting of a few antiquated pieces – some even non-electronic – in a tiled room with showers through a screen to one side. He threw his stuff down on a bench, including Poe’s jacket – why was he still wearing that? – and stripped down to his boxers and vest, since there was nobody else around. The Order maintained a strict work-out regimen, which he had obviously let slide since his liberation, but with all the commotion in the intervening time Finn’s body was more or less as he left it – bulky but tight. He set to work on some weights.

                Just as his muscles were beginning to gleam with sweat, Finn heard a panting louder than his own. He made a quick note of his count on the napkin and padded towards the showers where the sound was coming from. There was definitely a heavy breathing, but he couldn’t tell if it was one or two sets of lungs in the echoing bathroom. He edged past the screen dividing the two sections of the gym, and now he could make it out clearly – two male voices grunting and panting, and just the occasional wet slapping sound. Finn blushed deeper than before, but the burning in his loins kept him from freezing up. Bravely but silently he crept across the changing area towards the showers when, despite his best efforts, he slipped on the shining white tile and collapsed on the ground. Dazed, he could just about tell that the sounds had stopped, and for a while there was silence. A squeak, the sound of metal grinding on metal, and a rush betrayed the fact that the shower had been started.

                “Oh, like _nobody would know…_ ” Finn rolled his eyes.

                Taking more care to be absolutely steadfast as well as silent, Finn crept to his feet. He glanced over to the trail of clothes leading from the entrance of the bathroom to the showers and noted two key components. One was a star-pilot’s helmet – no surprises there. Of course Dameron would take any opportunity to have his way with someone. But the other set of clothes was more surprising – a set of mechanic’s overalls. In his mind’s eye Finn saw the hand fall from Poe’s back to his buttocks, and the look on the mechanic’s face after his dinner had been stolen. A look that was almost a grin? Finn’s dark grey boxers tightened.

                The running water had given the amorous couple the feeling of being unheard, and they were going at it with renewed gusto. Finn still instinctively sneaked along the line of discarded shoes and socks towards the bank of shower cubicles. The shower heads were separated by tall concrete partitions, and each cubicle had its own frosted glass door. All but one of these doors were swinging open, but the one Finn was heading for was latched shut and steamed up.

                “Is that all you’ve got little man? Fuck me harder!”

                Finn had never heard Poe’s voice so husky. Its breathy quality made the demand no less direct, and the wet slapping continued faster and more vigorously. Finn, weak-legged, stumbled into the cubicle opposite Dameron’s, which had water seeping from below it and steam rising from above. He sank down to sit legs apart on the cold shower floor. He was acutely aware of his own manhood, but was determined to ignore it.

                “You take it like a bitch, Dameron,” came the grunting cry of the mechanic as Finn saw two palms press against the glass door.

                “If I’m the bitch,” here a palm was removed, Finn could only imagine where it went, “then why are you the one with no dinner _again_ , Chesky?”

                _Chesky._ He’d have to remember that name, because he’d be damned if he left now to write it down on his napkin. Instead, he crawled onto all-fours, initially to avoid catching sight of his throbbing cock through his boxers. He soon realised he could see under the glass door of the steamy cubicle, and peep about at the men’s wet, hairy ankles. Slow and shaking, Finn brought one hand to his aching groin.

                Suddenly he felt pleasure rush through him, streaming from his hand down between his thigh, up between his buttocks and straight up his spine. He arched his back and spread his legs wider as he teased his boxers down. It went without saying, but this felt _good._ He kept his gaze firmly on the ankles before him, when one foot, darker and standing in front, lifted up to get better purchase.

                “Come in me, Chesky.”

                It didn’t take long for the mechanic to obey. With a grunt and a sigh he pulled out and slumped on the tiled floor. Finn got an unprecedented view of the man’s listing cock between his splayed legs, balls sagging down. His own member engorged still further at the sight. Dameron’s feet turned to face the deflated mechanic, and with a squeak the shower stopped running.

                “Good boy, Chesky.”

                Poe must have leant back, because Finn saw the most glorious impressions of two butt-cheeks in the glass. Their size kept changing as Poe thrusted, constantly changing the pressure against the door. Finally the cheeks left the glass as he sighed, and a wad of cum rained down on Chesky’s torso. Finn simultaneously blew his load into his hand, up his vest, and all over the dry floor. In that moment of silence, all three men stayed still, panting.

                As the sound of the lock went, Finn’s survival instinct kicked in. He jumped up and slammed his own door shut, locking it. Poe’s tanned outline passed by, strolling along naked as you please. For a while Chesky just stayed there, until Finn realised that his own cubicle must have been empty when he and Poe arrived. Without thinking, Finn turned the shower on. He stood there in his vest and boxers with his thick cock hanging out, getting very quickly drenched.

                After some time had passed and his erection had subsided, Finn ventured out of the cubicle. Chesky and Poe had left no trace, and there was nobody around now that night was falling. He sloped back to the equipment room in his damp underwear and stripped off. Starlight was beaming through the high windows. He stood for a while fully naked, feeling his waist, his pecs, his ass, his balls. He was no longer horny, he just had a new-found appreciation of himself.

Dressing, but going commando due to his rinsed boxers, Finn noticed that one item of clothing was missing – Poe’s jacket. The bastard knew.


	2. BB-8 – In the Closet – Delete history?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe is determined to retrieve the jacket from Poe's bedroom, but what he finds there keeps him occupied long enough to almost get caught... Plus he comes away with more than he bargained for.

It was few days before Finn picked up the courage to go talk to Poe. He wanted that jacket back – not particularly as a reminder of the man who first wore it, but as a memento of his own liberation from the Order. That jacket meant freedom, it was his new identity – Dameron couldn’t just take it back so carelessly. In a dark recess of his mind, Finn wondered if the pilot had removed the jacket as a signal, a tiny communication. Yet another turn in his endless power play. Whenever Finn’s thoughts grew this convoluted he shook himself violently. It was simple – he wanted the jacket, Poe had the jacket. Nothing more. That alone was why he was pacing outside Dameron’s door.

~

The fact that Poe Dameron had his own single-occupancy bedroom raised a few eyebrows on the base. Common squaddies and engineers had to share dorms with bunk beds, sometimes with sixteen occupants to one large room. Nobody grumbled of course – this was war. But it did grate that the illustrious Starfighter pilot got an entire place to himself, a smallish room to call his own. There he could shave in privacy, hang out in privacy, sleep in privacy… or not in privacy. People would have asked themselves “who’s he screwing to get that?” except of course they already knew the answer – pretty much everybody.

Finn had been in the corridor outside Dameron’s room for maybe twenty minutes when he took a deep breath, bit his lip and knocked on the door. It turned out not be locked after all, and swung easily into the space. The room was square, with military-grade furnishings like the rest of the base. A double bed stood in the centre, behind which to the left was a deep metal wardrobe. A desk in the corner had probably never been used for writing, and a door to the right led through to an en suite. If Poe’s away, he might not notice the jacket going missing? Finn paused in the doorway, checking the corridor. This was a game of cat and mouse – and Finn had to make sure he was the cat. He crept into the room, closing the door behind him. He had to get that jacket.

Trouble was, the room was pretty bare. The small window let in barely the idea of light, but Finn could make out the shapes of Dameron’s star pilot get-up strewn on the desk. The jacket must be in the wardrobe. Stepping softly so his boots didn’t ring on the hard floor, Finn made his way around the bed towards the metal closet. Suddenly he fell over a knee-height object and came crashing to the floor.

“BB-8! What are you doing here?” Finn hissed, nursing his shin. The robot was unresponsive. He checked it over, finding most of its lights extinguished except for one round red one which was gently pulsing – power saver mode? Finn tried to push the light, but it wasn’t a button. He picked the droid up to observe its sphere from all angles. Scratching his head, he went straight to Plan Z, and gave it a sharp whack with the palm of his hand.

BB-8 sprung to life with a squeal, rolling its ball around so Finn had a hard job keeping hold of it. Once it settled down, it resumed its previous program. This involved shining a harsh cyan light directly in Finn’s eyes. He instinctively cast the droid like a bowling ball under its master’s desk. From its resting place in the corner of the room, BB-8 projected a holotape into the floor space at the foot of the bed. It was at an angle, and had been resumed halfway through the recording, but Finn had no trouble working out what the tape was about.

It was Poe, in the eerie blue glow of a home holorecording. He was lying on his back with his legs splayed, stroking his cock with one hand and cupping the gap between his ass and his balls with the other. As he massaged himself, his fingers drew closer and closer to his inviting hole…

Finn once again found himself in a state of shock. His body was demanding that he drop his trousers and copy – jerk off this instant! Of course the sensible part of himself was telling him to switch the damn thing off and run. While he was slowly unzipping his fly watching Poe pleasure himself, Finn became aware of footsteps and voices in the corridor. He grabbed BB-8 and, pausing for a brief panic gulp, stowed himself with the droid safely in the wardrobe.

~

The bedroom door bashed open and various objects were hurled on the floor and across the bed. Finn was holed up in the closet, crouched on its floor along with Poe’s shoes and shirts which had missed their hangers. Cupped safely in his crotch was BB-8, still obediently projecting his master’s shimmering solo vid. The Starfighter pilot’s ethereal form was lying naked across Finn’s palpitating chest. Even on holotape you could make out the taught and glistening muscles of Dameron’s stomach. It was no small mercy that the droid wasn’t providing audio, although Finn would have killed for a set of headphones right about now.

Outside in the bedroom the hubbub continued. One voice was clearly Poe’s – languid and casually authoritative. The other voice, also male, was terse and demanding, although you could almost hear the tension in his jaw.

“What on D’Qar did you think you were playing at?”

“I was doing my job and doing it damn well.” Poe was punctuating his statements with slamming drawers and cupboards. Finn decided he needed a better view, so slowly stood in order to peer through the meagre slats in the metal closet door. BB-8 stayed at his feet, with holoDameron humping the air around Finn’s ankles.

“Nothing gives you the right to jeopardize my mission, Dameron!” The voice spluttered.

“I didn’t jeopardize your mission – I saved it, goddammit.” Now that he could see through the slats, Finn got a sense of the unknown male. He was a high ranking officer on the base, chiselled and clean-shaven, with a shock of the palest blonde hair rushing back off his forehead. He was standing tense and firm in the doorway with his hands screwed into fists. Poe meanwhile was roving the room like a caged tiger, taking off items of clothing and thrusting them violently about. He was already down to his vest and shorts. Without realising it, Finn’s hand was in his pants.

“Oh of course – our dear saviour Lord of the X-Wings. Who the hell do you think you are?” Poe removed his sweat-darkened vest in one swift movement.

“Your best damn pilot, Admiral.”

This left the officer stunned, reaching for words his mouth couldn’t provide. At Finn’s feet, mini-Poe came spectacularly with several fingers inside of himself. Finn pulled at his own groaning balls to stop himself peaking too soon. Finally the admiral whispered defiantly:

“I do wish you’d deflate your ego, although then there’d be nothing left of you.”

“Are we done here? Because I need a shower.” With that Poe dropped his shorts and stepped out of them lazily. From his vantage point, Finn could see the pilot’s naked form and sculpted ass, but couldn’t tell if the pilot was hard. He could tell however that the Admiral’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

“As you were, soldier.” The officer clicked his heels, turned sharply and left at a march.

“Yeah, sure whatever,” Dameron cried after him, “I’ll just be in the shower. Jerking it! Dickwad.”

Finn figured he could escape once Poe got in the shower, although it turns out that hygiene was only a pretence for the starpilot’s argument with the Admiral. After padding around the bedroom a little, Poe rubbed himself down with a towel and got changed into some gym gear which was lying at the foot of his bed, packed a bag and headed off for a workout. In the doorway, Dameron stopped and whistled – calling BB-8. Fortunately, the droid was powered-down, or wise enough to remain silent. After a reasonable pause, Finn stumbled out of the wardrobe and allowed himself a gulp of fresh air. Remembering his mission, he returned to the closet to rummage for the jacket – there it was in all its earthy glory. There too was poor BB-8, all lights extinguished. Finn jumped suddenly – the droid knew.

~

Pacing the floor, Finn needed to work out what to do with the wretched roller-ball porn-robot. There’s no telling what information it would pass on to its master. Can droids lie? Is it worth asking it to? Will the tape come up as “played” in Dameron’s holo-library? Does Poe treat the thing as a metallic friend or as a portable wank bank? Finn decided to wake it up to find out. 

Placing it on the bed, he knelt and probed it for buttons. Nothing seemed to be working – even his tried-and-tested Plan Z. Given that there wasn’t even a low-power light glowing, Finn figured it might have simply run out of juice, so started scouting about the apartment for a wire. Finding one plugged in to a socket by the bed, he hooked BB-8 up to the mains. Instantly the droid woke up with a whirr and a squeal, several electronic beeps and then it settled into projected the holo-library into the empty air.

Finn tried to absorb as much of the visual feast as he could. Stills from Poe’s films hung in the air like a dozen computer screens – each an erotic work, each homemade, each starring Dameron himself. The lack of scenery in each still brought the focus entirely onto Poe and the arch of his back as he relished whatever debauched delight he was giving or receiving from whatever man he had to hand. Finn scrolled, jaw and flies open, until he was sure that there were hundreds of tapes. He wondered briefly if they were for blackmail, for pleasure, or simply for ego. What kind of a man has 300 videos of himself being fucked?

Finn slouched on the bed, undid his trousers and slid them down. He knew it was wrong, but what other choice was there in this room filled with blue light and sex? Rubbing his hard cock through his boxers, he pointed with his other hand to a still which, to his astonishment, starred Poe and none other than the blonde Admiral. Finn identified him from the shock of hair and chiselled features, since he sure wasn’t wearing his uniform, at least in the graphic still picture.

“That one – Admiral Gorton I.” Finn croaked, mouth dry.

The other stills evaporated while the chosen one enlarged. Gorton was standing alone, rather awkwardly, now fully clothed in his dress uniform. 

“Is this entirely necessary?” He flickered, or perhaps BB-8 was adjusted for clearer recording, “And are you sure it’s just for… personal use?”

“Relax,” said Poe, coalescing into an embrace with the Admiral. He was already naked and hard in anticipation, “I just need this for when we’re apart, baby. You know how lonely I get…” Finn lifted his t-shirt a little and stroked the hair running down from his navel.

Poe fell to his knees, but made sure to stick out his ass so Gorton and the camera could really see his fine glutes and pristine butt-hole. He fiddled with the officer’s fly and swallowed down his cock once it had flopped out. The camera panned around the couple obligingly to provide a side-on view – thank goodness for BB-8’s smooth wheel-based movement. Poe’s wet blow-job lasted a while, but he seemed to be put-out by Gorton’s slow-to-rise manhood. He decided to change tack. Finn’s hand crept back under his boxers.

“I caught a mechanic bad-mouthing you the other day,” said Poe, coyly cupping Gorton’s ample ball-sack, “He said he’d rather be serving under Ackbar any day.” Gorton’s face remained impassive, but his back straightened sharply. “I said he’s quite right. And then I sucked him off behind the hangar.”

Gorton was incensed. His eyes flared wildly and he shoved Poe to the ground. Finn dropped his cock for a second and sat forwards, afraid of what might happen next. To his surprise, he saw that the Admiral was now completely hard – rock-solid and livid. Poe’s squirms on the floor were too theatrical to be taken seriously.

“That mouth is going to get you into trouble one day, Dameron,” warned the Admiral, “I’d better teach you that lesson before something worse happens.” He lunged at the starpilot and ground his erection against his backside. Finn started fapping away furiously as Poe was dry-humped and had his ass slapped like a schoolboy. When the time came to really spread his legs, Poe could barely contain his glee to keep up the pretend punishment. As he was entered he stiffened shamefully – even as he murmured no he brought his hand to his glistening erection.

“Tell me I’m the best.”

“You’re the best I’ve ever had, Sir.”

“Tell me you’re a whore.”

“Sir, yes sir. I just love to be fucked!”

With that final expletive, Dameron came all up himself, and Admiral Gordon shuddered to his climax inside him. Finn’s eyes and mouth were wide open, and for a second he couldn’t work out if he was fantasizing about fucking Poe or being fucked like Poe. He came into his hand, spurting over the bed, catching Poe’s jacket and even reaching BB-8.

~

Finn lay back on the bed, allowing his breathing to return to normal while he cradled his softening manhood. BB-8 hummed gently beside him, projecting the final frame of the holomovie into the room – naked Poe on all-fours reaching towards the camera lens to turn it off. Finn stood up with his pants round his ankles and waddled to the en-suite, where he removed as much residue as he good and rinsed himself off. Covering up his modesty, he returned to deal with the tiny porn machine.

“Hey BB-8, you’re not gonna tell anybody about this, right?”

The robot shut down its projection and blinked a little, whirring with an upwards inflection to feign ignorance.

“You know what I’m talking about – you won’t tell Poe?”

BB-8 rolled around the bed a little like a dog chasing its tail, then uttered a series of unintelligible bleeps. Finn decided this had to mean the droid would keep the secret. He picked up Poe’s jacket and arranged the room as if he had never been there. Going to leave, he heard the robot fire up its projector once more.

Turning round slowly, eyes wide, Finn feared the worst. Sure enough, there in the blue holographic light was Finn’s form, lying down, hands in his boxers. A loud scrubbing sound accompanied a fast-forward, and now holo-Finn had his cock out and was fapping away happily. Finn wasted no time. He threw Poe’s jacket over BB-8 and wrapped him up in it. Yanking the charger out of the wall he took the droid and ran all the way back to his dorm. How had the bastard droid filmed him? The little metal pervert.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my very first public fic! Hope you enjoyed, I'd love to hear from you if you have constructive feedback!
> 
> BB-8 has a larger role in the next chapter as Finn goes to retrieve the jacket...


End file.
